Mistaken Identity
“What if I should discover that the poorest of the beggars and the most impudent of offenders are all within me; and that I stand in need of the alms of my own kindness, that I, myself, am the enemy who must be loved — what then?”
Carl Gustav Jung
I really hate that I’m so fragile that I let other people’s bullshit bother me. I like to think of myself as a conscientious person. One who tries. Tries to be careful of the ways I walk in the world. Tries not to stomp on someone else to elevate myself. Tries to be self aware enough to know what I lack. But I still get all bent out of shape when I’m blamed for someone else’s feelings. Conscientiousness doesn’t help there, as it has no power or control over other people’s actions or assumptions about us. But consciousness does.
I agree with the mystics who say, “You see the world as you are,” describing our filters and character defects. Everyone has their filters. Filters that every interaction we have run through. Reflections of the core beliefs we have about ourselves or the larger world. All personality types have character flaws as well. Irritatingly, they are usually the back sides of our greatest strengths. They are the traits we prefer to ignore on the regular, but come out swinging during times of high stress or unhealthy circumstances. I believe it was their skewed vision and not mine in the cases that brought these particular thoughts to paper. I did not disrespect her, and I didn’t cause his issue. But when the finger was pointed at me I lost my composure. The rudeness I responded with had tapped a roaring pain. The twat in my head who sometimes echoes my unconscious feelings was screeching, “You aren’t really loved if….(fill in the blank!)”.
It’s terribly annoying that these situations are a normal part of human relationships. It is so easy to see someone else reacting out of the unconscious, but much harder when it is in our own backyard. It is actually true that some people won’t love or approve of me, or you. The false filter is when we act out of the idea that, “If only I did this or that,” I wouldn’t have to deal with the vagaries of men. I have no idea where this strangeness came from but I have seen it ruling the day and ruining relationships. It doesn’t seem like personal shadow work, but some other realm of lies where men and women are gods and goddesses and don’t have the human needs and conditioning that we actually have. What is that?
Ah humans, so fragile. We spend lifetimes building up walls between who we really are and who we think we should be. We consistently lie about who we are and damage the connections we crave. We hurt each other with our harsh judgments, as if there is some race to be better than each other instead of just being who we are. The disconnection from ourselves and others creates a pool of shame from not being who we know we are. This creates an inability to receive love because who would want to love a liar after all? The craving for connection becomes addiction, addiction breeds hiding, hiding leads to loneliness, and on and on it goes.
I am still afraid of rejection or disapproval more than I like to admit. An idea to go for something comes to mind and is quickly followed by a panic alarm. Also, I wasn’t really pissed off when I was blamed. I was wounded. It was a harsh reminder to check in with those inner thoughts and see what they are trying to tell me. The poet Rumi says, “If you are irritated by every rub, how will your mirror be polished?” As much as I hate it, for me, the irritation is necessary. A sign for me to seek growth in those places, to open the doors of all that is hidden away and let some light in.
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